


Fragments of Hope

by Gamer4



Category: Danganronpa
Genre: Stand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamer4/pseuds/Gamer4
Summary: Destroying the world is easy- rebuilding it is far more difficult, especially with the shadow of despair lingering over the few survivors. AU, born from Stephen King's The Stand. Features characters from all 3 main games, Despair Girls, and Danganronpa 3
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue: Escape

Gamer4 in. So, pop quiz, what happens when you take an avid gamer with Mountain Dew where their brain should be and a habit of writing Alternate Universe Adaptations (AUAs, if you will,) and cross him with a game series with a wide variety of unique, memorable characters? Apparently, he tries his hand at writing an AUA for a story with enough character slots to do that game series justice. So here we are, preparing to embark upon a Danganronpa-flavored retelling of Stephen King's The Stand. Here's hoping I can capture your interest. This prologue will be shorter, I think- sort of a statement of intent for everything to come. Please sit back and enjoy.

Disclaimer: One disclaimer per story. Danganronpa belongs to Spike Chunsoft, The Stand to Stephen King. Starting next chapter, I introduce a new fandom to Disclaimer Radio.

Fragments of Hope

Prologue

Escape

The first thing Rantaro Amami registered was the blaring alarm.

His eyes flew open and he sat up in his bunk, looking around his room- warning lights were flashing, the siren screaming with all its might that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

A split second later, his door was practically kicked in by his closest companion, Nagito Komaeda- who was looking even more frazzled than usual. His hair, never particularly tidy to begin with, was flying everywhere, his eyes were wide and filled with terror, eyes flicking violently around the room as if attempting to take in everything all at once.

"Nagito, what's-"

"No time!" Nagito cut him off. "We have to leave! We have to leave now!"

Nagito nodded, and was moving towards his suitcase when Nagito cut him off, shaking his head violently. "No time, no time, grab your wallet, we need to go NOW!"

Rantaro didn't waste too much time examining Nagito's face- the panic he could already sense there was more than enough, when compared to the calm he usually clung to. He felt in his pocket to ensure his wallet was still there, then followed his friend out the door and into the halls of this facility owned by the Future Foundation.

Nagito seized his hand and led the way through the twisting, labyrinthine halls. As he fought to keep up, Rantaro gazed around, trying to detect just what, exactly, had gone wrong. Nagito was attempting to explain, but in his panic, it was coming out as a stream of incoherent babble. "Looked up just in time... everything red... buried the needle... have to get out..."

Yes, something had gone wrong, but he had no way of knowing exactly what it is- the Future Foundation had many projects operating in each one of their facilities. He knew they'd partnered with the Japanese military for some experiments at this one, but this didn't help him get any closer to-

He saw his answer.

Nagito took a hard right into the facility's cafeteria, and Rantaro's eyes widened as he saw that it was full of corpses. There had to be over fifty people in the chamber, not counting himself and his friend, but each and every one of them was dead- splayed out on the floor or over the table, some face-down in their meal. He couldn't see how it had happened- none of them had any marks that leapt out to him as deadly- for the most part, it seemed as though they'd simply dropped dead on the spot.

"What the-"

Nagito gave him no mercy, pulling him on further and further. Now that he had seen it, it could not be unseen- every doorway he peered through, he spied more dead bodies- slumped over in chairs, face-down or face-up on the floor, slouched over tables- some had a look of eternal fear on their face, others seemed to have been in pain- and others didn't even seem to know they were dead. Two men sat across from each other at one table, one still laughing at a joke the other had been telling before death came for them both.

"What... what happened?"

"I don't know... I don't want to stick around to find out," Nagito mumbled.

A cold, mechanical voice echoed through the loudspeakers: "This Future Foundation facility is on lockdown, repeat, this Future Foundation facility is on lockdown. Nobody is to enter or leave the facility at this time. Repeat, nobody is to enter or leave the facility at this time."

"We won't die here," Nagito shook his head. "Not us last remnants of hope..."

When they arrived at the front door, an iron gate was sliding down over it- both men broke into a flat sprint, desperate to remain here no longer than they had to. Miraculously, the gate stopped just short of completely covering the door, giving them ample time to make good their escape into a dark, government-issued vehicle nearby.

Nagito leapt into the driver's seat, Rantaro into the passenger's. "Nagito, the gates-"

"I know!" Nagito nodded as the engine roared into life. He took off as fast as he could, eyes still wide and roaming as he searched for the nearest exit.

And there it was, already sliding shut.

So focused were they on the gate that neither of them noticed the black bird that landed next to it, watching them intently.

The gate malfunctioned, struggling to close properly, giving them just enough time to scrape through it by the skin of their teeth.

The bird tilted its head, and took flight. The second it was no longer in contact with the gate, it finished sliding shut.

"That was... lucky," Rantaro gasped, looking behind them and watching the gate finally close. "What... what happened?"

"I was on guard duty- Lot 99," Nagito struggled to breath as he took off down the road, breaking every speed limit there was. "I looked up just in time... all the dials were red... managed to get out just before the bulkhead closed... and the alarm..."

Rantaro looked back, his conscience nagging at him. "Do you think... there were any other survivors?"

Nagito bit his lip. "I... I don't know..."

He fell silent, eyes on the road.

Rantaro turned to watch the countryside whizzing by. Up ahead, he thought he saw somebody standing by the road, sticking out a thumb. By the time he thought to ask Nagito about it, they'd whizzed past- he looked back, and the feminine figure had disappeared.

Struggling to relax, he reclined in his seat, comfortable to let Nagito steer them where he may- his luck hadn't failed them yet.

His eyes rose to the rearview mirror, and he let out a yelp, spinning around to look into the backseat.

"What is it?!" Nagito asked urgently.

"...Nothing, nothing," Rantaro shook his head. "Guess I'm... still rattled..."

There was nothing back there, of course. He didn't see how there could be. But for a split second, he thought he'd seen someone in the mirror- a woman with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes- like chips of ice.

But what had thrown him off the most was that smile- that cold, cruel smile that spoke of some awful, unspeakable victory.

XXXX

Like I said, short prologue in an effort to draw some attention. This is a story that will shift perspectives a lot- several times a chapter. It might be jarring, but it's either that or many, many shorter chapters if we try to have one perspective per. I aim to have the first 'main' chapter up on New Year's. Until then, please R&R, constructive criticism embraced, Gamer4 out.


	2. Where we Were

Disclaimer: Aaaaaaaall our times have come... Heeeeeeeeeere, but now they're gone...

Chapter I

Where We Were

Sayaka Maizono closed her eyes, allowing the scent and sound of the ocean to wash over her. She could see a great deal of the beach from her vantage point above the railing, but she had no desire at the moment to go down and join the revelry. She had far more pressing things on her mind at the moment. Deep breath... in... out. In... out.

It had been a full week since she'd received her first alert that her life was about to change forever- the second alert had arrived only the previous day, and the third was expected within the week. If it went as she believed it would... there would be no turning back.

Deep breath in... and out. In... out.

She'd told nobody as of yet. She could imagine her parent's reactions- the fact that she'd graduated high school the previous month would be of no consequence, particularly to her mother. She could only imagine how several of her friends would react- especially Leon Kuwata, the very man who had brought it about. A bitter part of her wanted to refer to him as the man who'd got him into this mess, but that would imply she fully accepted it as such- she wasn't altogether certain that she did.

Regardless, she'd see Leon's reaction soon enough, assuming he showed up- and he'd never failed to answer her summons before...

"Hey, Sayaka!"

The smallest of smiles crossed her face. He certainly could be reliable at times- especially in the most recent months, he's proven himself to be remarkably faithful, especially compared to the old school days.

She turned to see him hurrying along the path, hair still as crimson as ever, still in the punkish clothes he'd sported throughout their senior year.

Despite her smile, she gave a nervous swallow.

"Thanks for coming, Leon," she greeted.

"Sounded pretty important," he acknowledged. "What's going on?"

It seemed the seriousness of her summons had gotten through to him. Good- it was a serious topic.

"Do you mind... getting some ice cream first?" she asked gently.

He scratched at the back of his head and chuckled. "Twist my arm, why dontcha? Alright, I guess that's fair- the place ain't that far away."

Sayaka remained silent for the minute or so walk to the beach's ice cream parlor, and remained in thoughtful silence as she licked at her chocolate mudslide cone, Leon at her side with some mint-chocolate chip.

"You okay?" he finally asked. "You've been looking a little nervous this whole time."

"..." Sayaka remained silent a moment longer as she tried to figure out the best way to break the news to him. "...Do you remember a couple weeks ago, when we went to that club to celebrate graduation?"

"How could I forget?" Leon smirked. "That was a magical night."

"Yes... it was," Sayaka nodded, raising a hand to her chest. "In... more ways than one..."

She looked up and met him in the eyes. "Last week, something happened- or... I mean, something didn't happen that should have. I... I thought I knew what it meant, but I wanted to make sure, so-"

"Sayaka, what's wrong?" Leon interrupted, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know that."

Sayaka closed her eyes again. The scent of the ocean- the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Deep breath in... and out. In... out.

"Leon, I'm pregnant."

She opened her eyes to find her companion looking absolutely gobsmacked. His face had paled, his eyes wide and his mouth open, revealing the stud in his tongue. "You... you're sure?" he stammered out.

"I took a drug store test, and it came back positive," Sayaka related. "I've been to the doctor- I should be getting the results soon, but... I'm pretty sure."

Leon closed his mouth and did a nervous swallow of his own. "And, in that case... I'm..."

"It couldn't be anyone else," Sayaka nodded.

A loong, deafening silence fell between them, broken only peripherally by the beachgoers and crashing waves- but Sayaka couldn't hear them anymore. All her senses were focused on the man in front of her, for whom she now held so many mixed emotions.

Leon looked down at his ice cream cone- he'd dropped it in his surprise, but it barely seemed to register. "Well... that's not... something I expected to..."

"If you're going to run, do it now." Sayaka couldn't keep a note of accusation out of her voice- she'd been going over scenarios in her head for a solid week, and many of them ended with those exact results.

"Run?" Leon shook his head. "I'm not gonna run, Sayaka... what kinda guy do you think I am? I know I did this... but... what do we do now?"

A wave of relief swept over Sayaka, relief that, at the very least, the worst possibilities she'd imagined would not come to fruition. "I... I'm not sure..."

Leon absentmindedly turned to the railing overlooking the sea, looking across the Pacific ocean with a faraway look in his eyes, unwittingly mimicking Sayaka's previous pose almost exactly. "Well... I guess... the most obvious thing... would be for us to get married..."

He looked frightened at the thought, and Sayaka would be lying if she said she didn't feel similarly. She took him in, top to bottom- he'd been a great friend to her for many years, and the thought of a deeper relationship had been something to occur to her before, but... was she in any way prepared to take such a large step as marriage?

Even more... she rubbed her stomach lightly, reaching out to the life she suspected was now growing there. True, she didn't even know for an absolute certainty yet, but even so, she'd already fallen in love with it, determined to do right by it no matter what. Could she say with good faith that Leon would be a good father figure to a growing child?

She took him in again- true, he'd grown more dependable over the last couple years, but there was still something obviously childish about him- those punk clothes, the stupid stud in his tongue... as much as she cared for him...

"No, I don't think that's the right answer," she shook her head.

Leon closed his eyes, looking as though he wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. "I gotcha. It is a pretty sudden thing..."

He drummed his fingers on the railing, shifting to a more contemplative look. "I'm guessing you aren't planning on... getting rid of it."

"Absolutely not," Sayaka crossed her arms and glared at him.

Leon nodded. "Yeah... didn't think so. Well, I'm out of ideas, at least for now."

Sayaka looked back at the sea. Crazily, a random fact she'd heard somewhere came to mind- the Pacific Ocean allegedly had more water on it that was necessary to cover the entire surface of Mars. From this vantage point, she could believe it.

"Maybe we... should step back for a while," she pondered. "I need some time... some time to think... to tell my parents."

"Alright, if you say so," Leon nodded. He placed his hand on her shoulder again. "But listen, Sayaka- marriage or no, I'm not gonna let you go through this alone. You need my help, you call me, okay?"

Sayaka felt tears welling up in her eyes- she wasn't altogether certain why. "Of course."

He pulled her into a hug, then turned around and set off back down the beach. She watched him go before turning back to watch the sun slowly sink behind the horizon, finishing off her ice cream as she thought long and hard about what the future may have in store for her.

XXXX

Kaito Momota smiled as he steered his car through downtown Osaka- it had been years since he'd seen these sights. After several years of high school and a year's worth of college in the big city of Tokyo itself, the sight of his home city was one for sore eyes.

He turned on the radio, and laughed at the sheer coincidence of the song that began playing- a very familiar voice crooning out,

"The man in me will hide sometimes,

Just to keep from being seen.

But that's just because

He doesn't want to turn into some machine!"

The voice ought to be familiar- it was his own, after all. He'd always had a fascination for western music- it had taken him some time to translate some of his favorites among the 'Golden Oldies,' so to speak, to Japanese, but he'd found it well worth it- especially when it had actually gotten picked up. Suddenly, out of nowhere, just about fifty years after its original publication in the states, The Man in Me found a new audience across Japan. When compared to introducing his country to some of his favorite music (and all the fame that came with it,) the paycheck that came along with it seemed rather insignificant.

Of course, he added to himself, that's also part of the reason I'm in this mess in the first place...

He listened through to the song's end, resting his head against his seat in an effort to relax. He hated to admit it, but he'd made his bed- now it was time to lie in it.

He allowed the radio's random selection to carry him all the way to the city's opposite edge, where he found himself among a series of small houses. He pulled up in front of the one he'd been looking for, climbed out of his car, and made his way to the front door. He inhaled deeply before reaching out and knocking.

In the moments it took for the door to open, Kaito found his eyes drifting to a nearby alley, where they met a gruesome sight- a large black bird of some sort feeding upon an unidentifiable piece of carrion. Whatever it was had decayed too much for him to place it- not that he particularly wished to. It was the bird that put him off the most, though, pecking away at the deceased creature without a care in the world. Abruptly, it paused, and turned- for a moment, it seemed to be looking directly at him, eyeing him up from head to toe- and though he knew such a thing was impossible, it sent a chill up his spine nevertheless.

He was distracted by the door opening and a gasp from the other side. "Kaito! You're really- you actually..."

"Promised I would, didn't I?" He quickly fixed the elderly woman with his trademark winning smile-thumbs-up combo. Almost subconsciously, he glanced back at the alley- the bird had taken flight, seemingly started by the door. Fine by him.

On the other side of the portal stood his grandmother, Mitsuko Yada, who had cared for him from an early age.

She pulled him into a tight hug- one he gently returned- before stepping back to allow him entrance into the building. "Come in, come in, I'll make breakfast- you must have been driving all night!"

"Sure was," Kaito rubbed sheepishly at the back of his head as he stepped in.

By the time he had his shoes off, she was already busy in the kitchen. "So, I got your call," she called from over the stove, "but you seemed to be in a hurry. What brings you back to Osaka?"

Kaito flinched- he'd known he'd have to answer the question eventually, probably as soon as he stepped in the door- but he'd been somewhat hoping he'd have time to formulate a better response.

The story behind his homecoming was long and less than flattering, involving the rush of success, the brief, sweet smell of excess, a harsh crash back to reality, and the potential alienation of one of his best friends.

"A... few bad decisions," he finally settled on. "You... you heard that song I put out?"

"'The Man in Me,'" she smiled as she watched him take his seat at the table. "You always did like that western music... I can barely tell it's you."

"I've gotten that a lot," Kaito chuckled truthfully. "Well, tale as old as time- let fame get to my head, reality came collecting, and here I am, tryin' ta hit the ground running."

"Oh, I see." She eyeed him up with far more perceptiveness than he cared for at this exact second. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I'm still getting royalties for the song," he explained. "I just need somewhere to stay for a while while I wait for it to come in."

"Well, at leas you've got that much planned out," she decided. "But are you sure there's nothing else?"

Something caught in Kaito's throat- how could he admit it? How could he admit that he'd probably be just fine on his own for the short time it would be to his next check? How could he admit the full truth to her when he had yet to admit it to himself- that his first big foray into this grand new world had scared him, and made him lon gto be with his mother?

"No, that's about it." He took a deep breath. "I can chip in, help with expenses- I don't wanna freeload or anything-"

"Do that if you want," his grandmother cut him off. "Or don't- there are plenty of people in this city that don't. Of course I'd appreciate it, Kaito, but you're my flesh and blood- you'll always be welcome here as long as you need."

Kaito smiled as she laid a far larger-than-necessary breakfast before him, struggling to forget the last words between him and Mahiru- You're a nice guy- I mean, you have good intentions, but... there's something about you that's like... chewing on tinfoil. You're a taker... always have been...

He shied away from the memory and dug in.

XXXX

Chiaki Nanami's world was a silent one- she wasn't entirely sure of the hows or whys. As far as she understood, she had been born at a very bad time, and fell incredibly ill. While she had ultimately survived, her hearing was the price to pay for her life. Some pitied her- she didn't. She'd never lived with sound, so, in her mind, she'd never really had the chance to miss it either. Her hearing, she believed, was a small price to pay for her life.

Of course, never having heard so much as a peep in her life, she'd never learned how to talk, either, rendering her just as silent to others as they were to her. Often, they'd accept this- she'd even had some friends, some great long while ago, who'd gone to lengths to learn sign language so that they could communicate with her.

At the moment, however, she was alone, simply making her way back to her apartment at the edge of Kyoto.

The moon was bright that night, not that it mattered in this area- copious light pollution meant that the moon was the only sight in the sky regardless. The area was mostly empty, which may have contributed to the sensation she was feeling at the moment- the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. She couldn't hear them, of course, but she knew she was being followed.

She didn't hear the threats being delivered to her from behind- her first inkling of the intruder was a hand on her shoulder, forcibly turning her around to face a tall, foul-tempered young woman with blond hair, cheeks currently red in what looked like fury.

Her mouth moved- Chiaki couldn't hear a word she was saying, but she could read her lips: -pay attention when I'm talking to you!

There were two other girls behind her- one, who looked somewhat taken aback, had overall black hair with purple highlights, tied at the top into two... horns, for want of a better word. Her clothing seemed rather eccentric, particularly the black-and-purple striped fingerless glove she wore on one arm. The other had long, wavy brown hair, and was dressed far more conservatively by comparison. She looked scared, apologetic.

Chiaki attempted to communicate her condition- she raised her hands to her ears, then placed them on her throat, then shook her head.

The brown-haired girl looked horrified- she seemed to have grasped what was happening. Punk-rock girl, as Chiaki thought of her, tilted her head in apparent confusion. The blond-haired girl in front seemed to take personal offense.

Are you making fun of me?!

Chiaki shook her head, and attempted to make the sign again- the girl cut her off by punching her in the face.

Chiaki had never been the most athletic- she went down with one strike. Light flashed behind her eyes- the last thing she saw clearly was the onyx ring on the girl's finger, set with a stone imprinted with the image of a twisted serpent.

The blond girl continued to scream as she bent down and continued her assault, much to the shock and horror of her comrades. Chiaki, of course, heard none of it as her head was repeatedly bashed into the pavement beneath. Oddly enough, she felt remarkably calm throughout the encounter, the dominant thought being, not of fear for her life, but an absurdly deadpan, Well, this sucks...

XXXX

The first thing Chiaki registered- albeit vaguely- was the sound of wind blowing through... something. Just beyond that... the sound of music.

When her brain had time to catch up with this sensation, her eyes flew open, and she gasped in shock. And she heard it. She. HEARD. It.

She placed her hands around her throat, and tested her newfound voice- it was nothing like she'd ever imagined. Against all odd, despite never having heard or spoken a single word in her life, she found it in her to cry out, "I can hear! I can hear! I can talk!"

At the back of her mind, she already knew this was a dream, but that only minutely affected the miracle- even all her dreams up to this point had been absolutely silent- after all, how would her brain process sound she'd never heard or understood?

Her shock at her sudden auditory acuity aside, she finally turned her attention to what she could see- corn. The wind was blowing through rows and rows of corn, taller than she was, blocking her from seeing how far it stretched in either direction. However, she didn't feel lost- she felt an odd sense of calm, as if this was exactly where she was intended to be.

There was the other sound again- the other SOUND, she still couldn't get over her sudden ability to actually HEAR! Faint strains of what she supposed must be music ever so slightly broke over the sound of wind through the cornstalks. An instrument of some sort, accompanied by a gentle voice.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me..."

The sound of the voice brought even more calm to Chiaki's heart- she found herself moving towards the music- it grew louder rather quickly, and it wasn't long before she was emerging from the corn field, and standing before the mysterious singer.

"Once, I was lost, but now, I'm found.

Once, I was blind, but now, I see..."

The singer was a woman- a remarkably old woman, though the word 'decrepit' never once crossed Chiaki's mind. Her hair was snowy white with age, but she didn't seem to have lost a single strand- it was tied down her back in a long braid. Her face was wrinkled, but it served to make her look wise, rather than shrivelled. She sat on a rocking chair on the porch of a very traditional house, smiling out at the corn around her through a pair of crimson eyes only slightly hidden behind a pair of old glasses. In her lap was the guitar with which she made her music.

She noticed Chiaki the moment the young woman emerged from the corn. Her playing momentarily ceased. "I've been waiting on you... Chiaki Nanami."

Chiaki stepped closer. "You... know my name?"

"I've been given all the knowledge I need to face the days ahead," the woman smiled. "I'd imagine this is very jarring for you, suddenly able to hear, and all."

"Your music... it's beautiful," Chiaki smiled. She felt something on her face- she raised a hand and found herself wiping away a tear.

"Well, I appreciate that," the woman thanked. "Amazing grace... one of my favorites. I very nearly gave in to despair once... amazing grace, indeed, that pulled me out."

Chiaki tilted her head slightly. "Do you mind if I ask... who are you?"

"Not at all," the woman laughed lightly. "My name is Ryoko Otonashi, and I'm one hundred and eight years old."

Chiaki's eyes widened. "A... hundred..."

Ryoko didn't seem insulted- if anything, she seemed to find Chiaki's bewilderment even more amusing. "I don't look a day over eighty, do I?" she chuckled.

Chiaki glanced around. "This... this is a dream, right? It has to be, for me to-"

"Of course it's a dream," Ryoko nodded. "But don't go around thinking that means it's not real. I'm as real as anything, out in the countryside of our land of the rising sun. And you... you're free to come over and visit any time you want. My door is always open."

Abruptly, her smile vanished, her brows began to knit. The cause seemed obvious- the previous blue skies were suddenly overtaken by dark clouds and rushing winds- for the first time in her life, Chiaki heard the distant sound of thunder.

Ryoko's voice, too, had taken on a more serious caste. "Just be careful on the road- watch out for her."

"Her?" Chiaki repeated.

"Her," Ryoko repeated, raising a hand and pointing behind her. "The Dark Woman."

Chiaki turned, and felt a bolt of terror course through her heart. Arching above the corn was a scarecrow- but no scarecrow she'd ever seen. It was a rotting, feminine corpse, with cold, empty crimson eyes, a hanging jaw accentuating the look. And though it must be dead, Chiaki felt those horrible eyes boring through her flesh and directly into her soul.

XXXX

Chiaki's eyes flew open- she would have gasped, but no sound emerged from her throat- not that she'd have heard it anyways.

The corn was gone- she was in a well-kept room, seemingly propped up on a sofa. Her head still felt very tender- raising a hand, she felt a number of bandages wrapped around it. Looking around, she saw a woman nearby- she, too, had red eyes behind a pair of glasses, but her hair was framed by younger, silvery hair. A sword was slung over her back, and she was eyeing Chiaki with clear concern.

Her mouth was moving. I'm glad to see you're awake.

Chiaki weakly raised her hands to her ears, then to her throat, and shook her head minutely from side to side.

The woman tilted her head, one eyebrow rising up slightly. Finally, her eyes widened as she seemed to realize what Chiaki was trying to say.

The door opened, and a young man entered- he wore an eyepatch over his right eye, and was otherwise dressed in a sharp suit. His hair was short and blond, a few trace patterns shaved into it. His mouth was moving, too. She's finally up?

The woman turned to him- away from Chiaki, she couldn't read her lips, but she could guess: This one is deaf-mute.

The man blinked his good eye. Deaf-mute, huh? I don't suppose you know any sign language?

The woman shook her head. The man sighed. He crossed to a nearby desk, pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil- he handed them over to her without any unnecessary words.

Chiaki looked down, and began to write.

Chiaki Nanami- don't worry about sign language, I can read your lips.

The man and woman looked it over, then back to her. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the man introduced. This is my right hand, Peko Pekoyama. She found you on the street- felt sorry for ya, took you in.

Chiaki looked to Peko, and bowed her head to show her thanks.

It is not our place to let the innocent suffer, Peko shook her head.

Damn soft-heart, Fuyuhiko shook his head, though Chiaki had a hunch that, if she could hear his tone, there would be very little bite in it. Any idea who jumped you?

Chiaki nodded, and returned to writing.

Blond- sort of rosy-cheeked. Couldn't have been much older than me.

Fuyuhiko read the description several times, his expression one of mixed exasperation and anger. He looked back to her, and raised his hand. For a moment, she flinched, wondering if he meant to strike her- but he was only showing her a ring- onyx, with figure imprinted on it resembling a twisted serpent- or a dragon, she realized, as she got a better look.

Was she wearing a ring like this?

Chiaki thought, and recalled the last thing she'd seen before being knocked unconscious. Slowly, she nodded.

Ahhh... fuck.

Your sister again, hmm? Peko rolled her eyes heavily.

Should have realized she'd pull some shit like this, Fuyuhiko seemed to groan, folding his hands beneath his chin. She can't keep doing this, it'll reflect badly on the clan...

He raised his eye back to Chiaki, seemingly coming to a decision. You been keeping up?

Chiaki scribbled down two words. Your sister?

Yeah.

The Kuzuryuu clan... you're yakuza.

Yeah. But even we have rules. If she keeps pulling shit like this, it's gonna cause major problems down the line.

He hesitated again. Hate to get you more involved than you have to be, but if you work with us for a bit, we might be able to actually get some justice for her this time. She's my sister, I don't wanna see her suffer... but she needs someone to smack her down before this becomes a big problem. Gotta warn you- this might not go anywhere, but I can guarantee Peko and I will protect you from any... reprisals. You in?

Chiaki hesitated. To think, just a few hours ago, the only thing she'd wanted was to get home, spend some time on her GameGirl, and go to sleep.

She took a deep breath, then wrote three more words down on her pad.

Let's do it.

XXXX

Komaru Naegi took a deep breath, weighing the large, red ball carefully in her hand. She turned to her lane, carefully gauging every last detail before stepping forward and releasing the orb. It hit the lane with a thunk, and the alley was momentarily filled with the sound of thunder... until her ball fell in the gutter, failing to hit a single pin.

"Awww," she pouted, turning away towards her bowling mate, a young woman with long, lavender hair framing a matching set of eyes. "You oughtta investigate this place, Kirigiri, I think it's rigged!"

Kyoko Kirigiri gave the lightest of laughs at her brown-haired companion as she rose to her feet. "That hasn't stopped your brother from getting four strikes in a row."

"Yeah, but you know how lucky he is!" Komaru insisted, glancing away from the alley to where her brother, Makoto, was trying his hand against the UFO machines. "He can even get prizes out of the grabber!"

Music filled the alley as Kyoko picked up a ball of her own- a song that had recently took the country by storm, despite its... antiquity.

"The man in me will do

Nearly any task.

As for compensation,

There's little he would ask!

It takes a woman like you

To get through

To the man in me!"

Kyoko gauged her own throw carefully, then cast. A brief moment of thunder, and every pin was down except for two- a classic 7-10 split.

"See what I mean?" Komaru hopped up and down in frustration. "Totally rigged!"

Kyoko remained silent as she grabbed another ball.

"Storm clouds are raging

All around my door-

I think to myself,

'I might not take this anymore!'

It takes a woman like your kind,

To find the man in me!"

A careful aim, a careful shot...one pin went flying into the other, earning her a nice spare.

Komaru's pout grew. "Well, you spend so much time with him, it's no wonder his luck is rubbing off on you a bit!"

"Is that how luck works?" Kyoko pondered, raising a hand to her chin in thought.

"Kirigiri! Kirigiri!"

As they spoke of the boy, he appeared, beaming wildly, his ahoge bouncing slightly as he eagerly presented Kyoko with a recently-won prize. "I got an axolotl!"

Kyoko's smile grew so minutely that only the Naegi siblings would likely have noticed it. "Ah... I'm feeling... pleased. How strange."

Komaru's pout gave way to a wide grin, but she held her tongue, eagerly watching the interaction between the two.

XXXX

It took a few more minutes for the girls to finish their frames, before they stepped out into the parking lot. Makoto took the lead, relating one of his many stories. For all his sister's talk of his fantastic luck, his fortune seemed more sporadic than anything. Today's tale was of an escaped hippo at the zoo- one Kyoko had heard before, but she rarely tired of hearing Makoto speak.

Komaru smiled as she watched them, but her smile faded when she spied something off in the distance.

It was a rather still night, very few cars on the road. But off in the distance, she could see a car coming down the road- not something worth noticing on most occasions, but this car... it was veering harshly to the right and left as it made its way down the street. Were there any other cars, there would almost definitely have been a collision by now.

"That's not right..."

Makoto and Kirigiri had noticed it, too. The only saving grace was the car's relatively low speed- only managing about twenty miles an hour.

"Drunk, perhaps?" Kyoko pondered.

"That would be my- LOOK OUT!"

Makoto grabbed hold of Kyoko and pulled her back as the car came careening towards them, going directly over the sidewalk into the lot, nearly smashing into the trio before instead colliding with a nearby tree.

"Oh, God..." Komaru gasped, her face pale, hands over her mouth.

Kyoko already had her phone out, rapidly dialing as she raised it to her ear. "Yes, there's been an accident- Emiri Bowling Alley... a car hit a tree. No, they didn't hit anybody else, but the people inside..."

Makoto hurried across the lot towards the car, and forced the driver's side door open. A young man with blond hair and several piercings came spilling out, hardly breathing as he landed on the pavement. Makoto recoiled as a foul odor hit his nose- he raised a hand to plug it as he searched through the car for anybody else. There was another man, collapsed against the passenger side door- his hair was white and untidy, he was dressed in a hoodie not dissimilar from Makoto's own... and he was dead. Quite clearly dead. His skin was pale, his eyes wide and unseeing, and he was sitting in a puddle of what seemed to be vomit. The most horrifying feature, however, was his neck- it was horribly distended, warped, almost like it was wrapped in a tube. The hands clutching at his throat indicated how much pain the deformation must have caused him before he finally succumbed.

Pulling back, he found Kyoko and Komaru attending to the other man on the ground. His skin, too, was pale and unhealthy, but he was, at the very least, breathing, albeit rapidly and shallowly.

His eyes slowly opened, and glanced up at them. "Amami... Rantaro... Amami..."

"Stay calm," Kyoko whispered. "Help is on its way, you're going to be alright.

"Nagito... how's... Nagito?"

The girls raised their eyes to Makoto, who sorrowfully shook his head from side to side.

Komaru took the lead on the conversation. "He'll be okay, too- you're both going to be fine!"

"We tried... outrun... the Dark Woman..." Rantaro gasped. "Can't... no one... can outrun... the Dark Woman..."

His delirium seemed to be reaching its peak- at last, he collapsed onto the pavement, unconscious, but seemingly still alive.

Makoto, Kyoko, and Komaru stayed there with him until the ambulance arrived, entrusting him to their care. Kyoko decided to go with him, acting as the accident's witness, encouraging the Naegis to go home and get some rest.

Rantaro Amami- if, indeed, that was his name- died en route to the hospital. Officially, due to a surplus of fluid in his lungs. The time was ten-thirty at night.

XXXX

Happy new year! Very odd thing to celebrate with- I'm just like that, I guess. If it wasn't abundantly obvious, this is my first time writing on this site- apologies for any mistakes with formatting. Until next time, please R&R, all feedback welcome, Gamer4 out.


	3. Beginning of the End

Gamer4 in. As a heads-up, these chapters are also going up on Fanfiction. Technically earlier, but only by a few minutes- or however long it takes me to post them here, too. I guess the point is, it's over there if you prefer that site, for whatever reason. Okay, enough waffling, let's get to the chapter.

Disclaimer: Seasons don’t fear the reaper, nor do the wind, the sun and the rain- we can be like they are!

Chapter II

Beginning of the End

The following day, the car crash at Emiri’s Bowling Alley was all anyone talked about in the town of Iwakuni. It was a small, rather sleepy town- just about everyone was aware of the event by noon.

“Heck of a way to end a bowling night,” scoffed Koichi Kizakura as Kyoko filled him in on the events. “Good thing you were with that Naegi kid- as usual, he’s got the Devil’s own luck.”

Koichi Kizakura was a middle-aged man in a suit and fedora, often to be found with a flask in hand. He was Kyoko’s uncle, not through blood, but through his brotherly bond with her father, Jin Kirigiri, currently hard at work in Tokyo. While Kyoko was independent by now, Jin had yet to stop seeing her as his little girl, and as such, made a point to send Koichi by to check on her periodically.

“He pulled me out of the way just before it entered the lot,” Kyoko related, a slight flush entering her cheeks. “If he hadn’t, I.....”

“No need to worry about ‘might-have-beens,’” Koichi shook his head. “You keep worrying about everything that might have happened, you’ll send yourself crazy.” He paused to take a long drink from his flask. “So.... neither of the guys made it?”

“Nagito Komaeda and Rantaro Amami,” Kyoko recalled. “No. But..... neither of them died from the crash itself.”

“Yeah, that’s what I hear,” Koichi nodded. “You said you think they might have been.... poisoned?”

“I thought it was a sickness of some sort, and it still might be,” Kyoko proposed. “But if it was, it was no illness I’ve ever seen. On the surface, it looked like the flu, but Komaeda’s neck was..... distended. The same happened to Rantaro, before he passed away.”

Koichi took a long drink from his flask. “Doesn’t sound like any disease or poison I’ve ever heard of.”

“Agreed,” Kyoko nodded. “If this was foul play..... it was a very unusual method.”

“Ah, that oh-so-frightening ‘if,’” Koichi reflected, raising a hand to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “I’ll have quite the story to tell your father when I get back to Tokyo..... anything else you want me to pass on?”

“Only the usual- tell him to stop worrying so much,” Kyoko answered with a roll of her eyes. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m absolutely fine out here.”

Koichi snorted. “You’re his girl- the day he stops worrying about you is the day he starts pushing up daisies.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Kyoko fought down a small smile.

Koichi tipped his hat and made his way out the door. He paused on the front step to bring a handkerchief out of his pocket and cough violently into it. “Damn colds,” he muttered to himself before hurrying on his way.

Behind him, Kyoko was feeling a little under the weather herself- she had dragged herself out of bed for his visit, and now, she reluctantly returned to her rest- not wanting to waste the day, but already knowing what Makoto would say if she attempted to push herself while coming down with what felt like a light flu.

XXXX

Even on the other side of town, in a small candy shop owned by town darling Ruruka Ando, conversation about the accident was to be found.

“Seiko was in the ambulance that picked up the survivor, you know,” Ruruka confided to her longtime partner, Sonosuke Izayoi. “Said she’d never seen anything like it.”

“That’s unusual,” Sonosuke agreed. “I thought she’d just about seen it all.”

“They said it was fluid in his lungs that finally finished him,” Ruruka recalled, “but according to Seiko, they weren’t really sure at all what it was that actually killed him.”

“Any idea who they even were?”

“Only their names,” Ruruka tapped her chin. “Nagito Komaeda and Rantaro Amami. No idea where they came from or what happened. Apparently, Rantaro woke up a couple times, but he never said anything coherent- just something about a walking girl waving a flag, or something like that.”

“Things are getting strange out there,” Sonosuke shook his head. “Maybe if I’d seen them, I could have told you something, but....”

“You’re on your way to Osaka soon, right?” Ruruka recalled. “Maybe you could keep your ear to the ground- maybe something like this is happening outside of town?”

“I guess it’s possible,” Sonosuke shrugged. “By the way.... what’s with the coat? It’s boiling out there.”

Ruruka looked down at the fur coat she had fastened over herself- indeed, she’d usually have abandoned it by now, but....

“I’ve been feeling some chills since I woke up today,” she confided.

“Sounds like you might have a cold going yourself,” Sonosuke guessed. “Why not take some time off of work?”

“I haven’t missed a day of work since I opened this place, and I don’t plan on starting now,” Ruruka huffed.

Sonosuke chuckled. “If you insist- but if it gets bad, I’ll put a hold on my trip to Osaka- I’ll come back and make you take a day off.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Ruruka smirked impishly as Sonosuke took his leave.

He was on his way down the street when he let loose with a hacking cough. “Speaking of colds.....” he muttered to himself.

XXXX

Far away, in the headquarters of the Future Foundation, Vice-Chairman Kyosuke Munakata was in a panic.

Only those who knew him very well would guess this- from looking at his face, a casual observer might think he was as calm and collected as ever he was. It would take a closer look to reveal the bloodshot, baggy eyes, currently gazing emptily at a folder containing documents concerning the disaster that had occurred at Location 99- and far worse, the two survivors.

AS OF 12:43 PM, ON APRIL 1ST, WE CAN CONFIRM THAT LOT 99, UNDER DEVELOPMENT AT FUTURE FOUNDATION FACILITY 99, HAS BROKEN FROM CONTAINMENT. LOT 99, CODENAMED “CAPTAIN TRIPS,” CONSISTS OF AN EXTREMELY DEADLY, MUTATING STRAIN OF FLU. TESTS CONFIRM A MORTALITY RATE OF 100%, AND AN INFECTION RATE OF 99.4%.....

Kyosuke’s eyes lingered on those final figures. Infection rate..... 99.4 percent..... mortality rate, 100. Hands shaking, he produced the first cigarette he’d so much as held in nearly twenty years, and lit it up. “Goddammit......”

The door to his office opened, and his right hand entered- a large, beefy man in a fur coat, answering to the name of Juzo Sakakura. “We’ve got reporters gathering around the front gate- they know something’s happened, but they don’t know what.”

Kyosuke’s voice sounded remarkably empty as he forced himself to answer. “I suppose you want to know what to tell them?”

“Tengan’s leaning towards telling them some of the truth,” Juzo reported. “Says we should tell them there’s a new strain of flu going around-”

“New?” Kyosuke almost laughed. “Yeah, I’d fucking say it’s new.”

He rose to his feet and began to pace around his office- Juzo watched nervously. He was one of those privileged few who knew Kyosuke well enough to recognize just how upset he was. 

“I suppose he wouldn’t want to tell them just how close we were to the damn thing,” Kyouske gave voice to his thoughts. “That we were taking it apart and studying it..... that everything that could possibly have gone wrong, did go wrong.....that somehow, every one of about a million failsafes went down at the same exact time...... and wouldn’t that have been a proud day in the Future Foundation’s history, if the story ended there?”

Kyosuke turned to face Juzo head-on- the latter man was unsettled to see a darkness forming in Kyosuke’s eyes. “But no, it doesn’t end there- because Nagito Komaeda had to be there that day- one of the greatest wild cards in our history. He had to somehow get out through the bulkheads before they could seal that site off for good, grab his friend, and by some freak coincidence, the gate malfunctions just long enough for them to get off the grounds and carry this ‘new strain of flu’ to the rest of the goddamn country!”

Finally, Kyosuke returned to his seat, taking a deep breath. “I suppose all that doesn’t really fit into a press briefing, does it?”

“I.... suppose it doesn’t,” Juzo agreed.

“What does Chisa have to say on the subject?” Kyosuke asked.

Juzo flinched, giving Kyosuke all the information he needed before he even spoke it aloud: “Chisa..... is.... dead.”

Kyosuke’s eyes became more hollow than ever. “.....Dead?”

“She shot herself,” Juzo admitted. “Only thing she left behind was her copy of the reports- guess she figured that was all the suicide note she needed.”

Kyosuke returned the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. Finally, he said, “Tell them whatever you want- we’re fucked either way.”

Juzo winced- such vulgarity wasn’t like his long-time superior. “Sir, if we can figure out where they went after they escaped, then maybe we-”

“Can contain it?” Kyosuke cut him off with a scoff, looking over the papers before him again. “Don’t fool yourself, Sakakura, we lost any chance of containing this thing the second those two pulled over for some takoyaki.”

Infection rate, 99.4%.....

There was a knock, and the door opened again, revealing a man even larger than Juzo, who whispered into his ear with an oddly high-pitched voice before bowing out again.

“More good news?” Kyosuke asked.

“Komaeda and Amami’s bodies have been found,” Juzo reported. “They were taken to a hospital in Iwakuni-”

“Iwakuni?” Kyosuke repeated, eyes wide. “They got halfway across the damn country!”

“What now?” Juzo pressed. “Should we move in, put them under quarantine?”

“For all the good it’ll do,” Kyosuke muttered. “Yes, shut them down- make sure nobody leaves. While you’re at it..... try to bring in anyone who’s not infected. If we’re lucky- a big fucking ‘if’ at this point- maybe somebody will be immune.”

“Yes, sir.”

Juzo bowed himself out of the room, leaving Kyosuke alone with the report on his desk. 

Rate of infection- 99.4 percent.

Rate of mortality- 100 percent.

XXXX

Three days after the car crash, Makoto found himself in Kyoko Kirigiri’s house, humming as he made her some chicken noodle soup to help fight the flu she seemed to have caught.

He hurried upstairs with the bowl, smiling as he opened her door with a knee, finding her looking as pale as ever, despite the warm cloth he’d placed over her head. “Soup’s on!” he announced, placing it gingerly in her lap.

“Th-thank you, M-M-Makoto,” Kyoko coughed. Never before had he seen her looking so miserable- skin white as paper, nose red from repeated blowings, voice incredibly hoarse when she was able to summon the strength to say anything at all.....

And it may be his imagination, but he thought the skin around her neck looked a little..... strange. Puffy? He was no doctor himself, but he had half a mind to call one- he likely would have done so already, if it weren’t for Kyoko’s insistence to the contrary.

He watched as she took a spoon and gingerly began to eat.

“I think you might have caught some sort of bug going around,” Makoto informed her. “Even Ando closed up shop today- you know how rare that is.”

“Indeed.....” Kyoko choked out. “I don’t recall her..... ever d-d-d-doing so b-before-”

She let out a sneeze- Makoto was immediately at her side with a tissue. 

“Th....Thanks again, Makoto,” she choked out.

“It’s no problem,” Makoto offered his reassuring smile. “You’ve helped me out plenty of times.”

His phone rang at that point- his subsequent move to answer it allowed Kyoko to more effectively disguise her blush. 

“Hey, Komaru, what’s- what? What are you- slow down- what’s going on?”

Kyoko peered over at him, nerves starting to set in as Makoto’s own face began to turn white. He hurried over to the window and peered out.

His eyes widened as he took in several military-style trucks going through the town, driven by men and women in uniform, wearing large masks.

“Makoto, what’s going-” Kyoko started, before cutting herself off with a series of hacking coughs. 

“Stay there,” Makoto instructed, before turning and dashing out of the door. 

Kyoko weakly pulled herself up as much as she could- just enough to peer out the window for herself- her hand went to her mouth when she saw what Makoto had. 

Makoto burst out the front door just in time to look right and see his sister sprinting down the sidewalk. “Makoto, they locked down our house- they-”

A truck stopped, and a man hopped out, grabbing her by the back of her clothes. 

“Hey! Hey! Let me go!” she objected furiously, kicking at the air as she was unceremoniously lifted and thrown into the back of the truck.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Makoto called out, a rare look of anger appearing on his face as he rushed towards the man- large, in a fur coat, face concealed behind what looked like some sort of gas mask. “That’s my sister- you leave her-”

He was met by a fist to her sternum, just before he was snatched up and thrown into the truck along with his sister.

In her house, Kyoko saw it all- finally, she forced herself to her feet and began dragging herself out of the room. “Makoto..... Komaru.....”

The door, still not closed from Makoto’s exit, was nonetheless kicked in again as the large man in the coat entered, looking around until he saw her. “No.... you’re not going anywhere,” he shook his head, grabbing hold of her and dragging her back up.

Kyoko fought, though she knew it was a losing battle. She caught one final glimpse of the truck carrying the Naegi siblings away before being forced back into her bed, and the curtains were drawn shut.

XXXX

Sayaka was remarkably nervous as she made her way down the street back to her house. A letter was clutched in her fist- one she had yet to open. Its contents would affect her entire future. 

She was so lost in thought that she almost crashed head-long into the other woman on the sidewalk- a hunched figure with her hair done in two long braids, nervous eyes hidden behind large round glasses.

“W-w-watch where you’re g-g-going!” the woman objected, pulling back. “Wh-what’s your p-problem?”

“Oh, sorry, Toko!” Sayaka apologized immediately. “I was..... distracted.....”

“Right..... I suppose I just b-blend into the p-p-pavement for you,” Toko looked down, fiddling with one of her braids. “I sh-shouldn’t even be surprised....”

Sayaka sighed internally. She’d known Toko throughout their entire high school career, but she was no closer to truly understanding her than the day they first met. She knew the girl was reserved, that she didn’t readily open up to anyone, and often assumed the worst about how others saw her..... and that was about it. 

“Toko, I promise it was an accident,” she offered gently. “A lot’s been going on recently, and.....” Honestly, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Thus far, the only other person she’d told about the sudden turn her life had taken was Leon- she hadn’t even told her father yet, let alone Toko Fukawa.

“Well, don’t let m-m-me keep you.” Toko still refused to meet her eyes. “I’m s-s-sure you’ve got p-plenty of better things to do.....”

Toko stepped around her and was on her way. Sayaka looked sadly after her, before calling out, “Toko!”

Toko stopped, but didn’t look back.

“If you ever need anything..... just..... someone to talk to..... feel free to talk to me!”

Toko muttered something under her breath- something Sayaka didn’t quite catch- then hurried along. Sayaka sadly watched her go before turning and continuing towards her own house.

Her father was there- an aging man, his hair a mix of black and grey, the grey taking over more and more in recent years. The moustache coating his lip was grey in its entirety, curling upwards in a smile when he heard her entering. 

“You just missed that boyfriend of yours,” he called out from the living room, as Sayaka made her way to the kitchen. “He came by askin’ after you.”

Normally, Sayaka would have immediately replied with a protest that he was not, in fact, her boyfriend, but recent circumstances made such a statement ring hollow in her ears. Instead, her heart jumped, wondering if her father already knew her secret. “Did he.... say anything?” she asked nervously as she picked up a knife to slit open the letter she’d carried home with her.

“Not to me,” her father shook his head. “Just said he wanted to talk to you about something, asked if you were in. He looked a little pale.”

Sayaka pulled the letter from the envelope and flicked through it, her heart nearly stopping as, at last, she had her answer.

Slowly, she entered the living room, and sat down on the sofa next to her father, who put an arm around her. “.....What’s wrong, Sayaka?” he probed gently.

“You could..... tell something’s wrong?” Sayaka asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Well, I am psychic, after all,” her father reminded her with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

Sayaka gave a slight giggle. “I guess it doesn’t really take good intuition to see through me.....”

For a moment, she considered simply handing him the letter and letting him read it for himself. She quickly dismissed the idea- she needed to face this herself.

“I......I’m pregnant,” she finally brought herself to say.

She flinched as her father’s eyes widened minutely- he was clearly surprised, but she wondered what else might be going through his head right now. Every worst-case possibility rushed through her head at once, and she unwittingly found herself trembling.

“I..... I’m sorry,” she finally mustered the strength to say.

“Sorry?” her father repeated gently. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

Sayaka’s heart skipped a beat as she took in her father’s smile. “You’re a grown woman now, Sayaka- why should I be upset that you’re giving me a grandchild? Yes, it’s a surprise, but I’d say it’s a welcome one.”

Sayaka wasn’t sure how to feel anymore. “But..... my idol career.....”

“Yes, I suppose this will cause some complications,” her father nodded. “It must be a difficult choice for you-”

“I don’t regret it,” Sayaka stood firm, placing her hand over her stomach once again. “I..... I’ll protect this child no matter what! I was just..... worried about what you’d think......”

Her father hesitated, seemingly struggling to decide the best words to speak next. “You becoming an idol..... was your mother’s dream, not mine. All I ever wanted...... was to see you happy. When I saw you on stage, living that life, and loving it..... that was my dream, yes, but if you’re happy turning away from that and raising this child..... then that will be my dream, too.”

Tears began pouring from Sayaka’s eyes- she couldn’t even tell what was causing them anymore as she rushed her father, burying her head in his chest. He smiled gently, running his hands through her hair and patting her on the back, assuring her that everything was going to be okay.

XXXX

Makoto Naegi spent the night in the back of an armored truck with only his sister and several strangers for company, knowing only that they were being shuttled to some unknown destination.

When the truck finally stopped, they were blindfolded and forced to march out of the truck, through the cool morning air, and into an air-conditioned building.

By the time his blindfold was finally removed, he was in a white, sterile room consisting of a pristine bed, a shelf filled with books and magazines, a tv in one corner, and a one-way mirror taking up the majority of one wall. 

Before he could ask his captors any questions, they’d already shut the door, leaving him alone.

He struggled to keep himself from hyperventilating, leaning back in his bed as he struggled to take stock of the situation. As it stood, there wasn’t much to go on- one minute, he was tending to his sick girlfriend, the next, he and his sister had been loaded onto a truck and taken far away from their hometown, to an unknown location, for unknown reasons. Kyoko may have been taken as well- she may not have. Komaru may or may not be in the same building, and he might or might not see either of them again.

No..... no, he’d see them again. He had to believe that. He did believe that. As bleak as things seemed now, he was sure that they would still work out.

The door opened, and a young woman in a motorized wheelchair entered. Her face was hidden behind a mask similar to those worn by the personnel who’d taken him and his sister- all he could make out was a pair of light blue eyes. 

On the front of her wheelchair was a monitor displaying what seemed to be a stuffed rabbit- she rapidly typed into a keyboard on her lap, prompting the rabbit to speak in a high-pitched voice.

“Hello, Mr. Naegi, how are you doing today?”

“I’ve.... been better.” Makoto was too taken aback to formulate a cleverer response. 

“I’m so sorry about all this,” the rabbit looked away shyly. “I’m sure you must be very confused by now, but rest assured, this is all for the good of Japan- or even the entire world!”

“The good..... of Japan?” Makoto repeated, bewildered.

The woman in the wheelchair tilted her head, as if listening to something- if he had to guess, Makoto would say she had an earpiece feeding her information.

“Er..... sorry,” the rabbit looked down apologetically. “There’s only so much I’m allowed to say, you know? For now, we just want to run some basic tests- take your temperature, weight, height, heart rate, that sort of thing, y’know?”

The door opened again, and another woman entered in full nurse regalia, carrying the instruments necessary to carry out such tests.

Makoto glanced from one woman to the other. “....Where’s my sister?”

“She’s fine,” the rabbit assured him. “We’re running the same tests on her, but don’t worry- we don’t mean to hurt either of you!”

“Then why are we here?” Makoto challenged. “You swoop down and snatch us both off the street and expect us to cooperate without any questions?”

The nurse looked to the woman in the wheelchair, as if uncertain what to do. The rabbit seemed to be sweating.

“Of course you’re upset- I can’t blame you!” she said quickly. “But really, this is for the greater good-”

“How?” Makoto repeated. “You say this is for the good of Japan, or the world, or whatever, but how?” A thought occurred to him- he could only imagine it hadn’t come to him sooner due to the distress of the day’s events. “This.... this has something to do with that car accident, doesn’t it? Those guys- Komaeda and Amami-”

The woman in the wheelchair didn’t answer, but her physical reactions were more than enough. There was a sharp intake of breath, and a sudden difficulty in meeting his eyes. Kyoko had taught him a thing or two about how to read people- he was right on the money, but she didn’t want him to know.

“Please, Mr. Naegi, if you just cooperate-”

“I won’t,” Makoto crossed his arms and stood firm. “Until you tell me what’s actually happening here, I won’t cooperate.”

“Mr. Naegi, we don’t want to use force-”

“You can’t use force,” Makoto countered, the thought occurring to him very suddenly. “Not for all the tests, at least. I mean, you could knock me out and get my height and weight, but how can you get my blood pressure or heart rate if I don’t cooperate? Anything you got would be useless, if I was stressed!”

He stood firm, knowing that he had a very bad hand here- but he intended to play it through to the end.

The lady in the wheelchair hesitated, seemingly accepting the truth of his words. “Mr. Naegi, I..... I want to tell you everything, but..... but I’m not authorized to-”

“Then bring me someone who is!” Makoto demanded. He wasn’t usually so forceful, but given the circumstances, he thought he had the right to be a little more high-strung than usual. “Because until I’m sure that my sister is safe- until I know what’s actually happening- I’m not cooperating!”

For a long moment, nobody spoke or moved- a classic Mexican standoff. 

Finally, the woman in the wheelchair bowed her head and began typing furiously. “I understand. I’ll.... see what I can do.”

She turned around and headed out the door, the nurse right behind her.

And once again, Makoto was alone in the room, pondering what the future could possibly hold for him.

XXXX

Kaito Momota’s eyes drifted open, taking in the light pouring through the window. Where was he again?

He sat up in the bed, glancing around the room. It wasn’t one he recognized....

Alright, Kaito..... work backwards here..... what were you doing last night?

He’d finally gotten a paycheck from the record company..... after paying this week’s debts off, he’d decided to use some of what remained to have a night on the town...... he’d stopped to shoot some pool in that bar, and impressed one lady in particular with a spectacular trick shot, and then......

Ah..... right. I went home with her, didn’t I?

Yes, yes, that sounded right. He looked around the room and spotted his shirt and coat lying on a chair nearby. Looking down, he saw that his pants were still on- that was a relief. At least they hadn’t done anything they’d regret too much.

As he stood up and began pulling his shirt on, his mind reflected on the dream he’d had the previous night. A strange dream, and one he was having trouble remembering now. Something about corn, he thought...... an old woman on the porch of a house, in the middle of a field of corn. She’d said something to him- something he couldn’t recall. Strangely, he could, at the very least, recall her name.

“Ryoko Otonashi.....”

The name of the woman he’d just bedded, perhaps? Maybe, but somehow, he didn’t think that was it.

He pulled his jacket on and exited the room, finding himself in a rather spacious apartment. The smell of cooking breakfast met his nose, and he found himself drawn into the kitchen, where the woman from the previous night stood, fully dressed and smiling as she fried up some eggs and bacon.

“Morning,” she greeted with a smile.

“Morning,” he nodded back. 

“Breakfast?” she offered, glancing behind her.

As great as it smelled, Kaito felt the need to turn her down. “Sorry, I..... gotta run. Something important’s come up, and-”

The woman’s eyes suddenly seemed to freeze over. “Oh. I see. Something’s come up, has it?”

Kaito froze beneath her gaze. “Er, yeah..... I have to go meet with someone-”

“And who might that be?” the woman crossed her arms. “And how many girls do you have lined up after her?”

Kaito’s eyes widened as he realized what the problem was. “Oh- no, no, not like that!” he waved his hands. “Look, I.....” He took a deep breath, and swallowed his pride. “I’m staying with my mother, right now, and I haven’t checked in for a while- I’m sure she’s getting worried-”

“Oh, really?” the woman glowered skeptically. “The great Kaito Momota, living with his mother? Pull the other one.”

“I- it’s the truth!” Kaito objected. “Look, I hit some bad times recently, and-”

“Are you sure you’re not running off to meet with Ryoko Otonashi?” the woman demanded.

Kaito blinked. “Hu- Who?”

“Don’t play dumb!” the woman’s grimace grew. “I heard you saying her name last night- moaning it!”

Kaito’s head was sent reeling- had he actually said that old woman’s name out loud? He supposed he must have, if this woman knew it- he doubted he’d moaned it, though, the dream had hardly been one of the erotic variety.

His thoughts were cut off when he felt something smack into his face- he looked down to spy a spatula landing on the ground. He was more taken aback than ever. “What the heck?!” he gasped. “What was that for?!”

“I took you home because I thought you were a nice guy!” the woman snarled. “Guess I was wrong- you’re no nice guy!”

Kaito stepped back, searching his pockets in an effort to determine if he was leaving anything behind. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. Wallet? Check. Time to beat it.

“Believe what you want- I really need to go.”

He made a dash for the door, the woman (whose name he still couldn’t quite remember) screaming after him- “You’re no nice guy! You’re no nice guy!”

The words continued to ring in his ears as he made his way down the street outside. It was more than the altercation just now, though he did feel somewhat ashamed for running out like that- what kind of guy did that, anyways? But the fact of the matter was, it reminded him greatly of the events leading up to his return. It reminded him of.... Mahiru. 

There’s something in you like..... chewing on tinfoil. You’re a taker..... always have been....

He shook his head, almost like a dog trying to get water out of his ears. 

He pulled out his cell phone- no missed calls. Suddenly, the prospect of going directly back home didn’t seem as appealing- having to explain to his mother exactly what had happened, likely meeting her disappointed gaze once more......

He fired a text to her, explaining that he’d be back later, and decided to stay out on the town a little longer. Perhaps there was a movie showing that might be worth his time. 

For some reason, he found, the theater was showing plenty of horror movies- Ju-on and Ringu..... movies he wanted nothing to do with. He hated ghost stories- they always sent a dark chill up his spine. 

Another title caught his eye- 2001, a Space Odyssey. Huh..... must be a retro day or something. Nevertheless, that was a movie that was more his speed- he loved anything to do with space- in fact, it was a recurring dream of his to become an astronaut, and actually leave Earth’s atmosphere for himself. 

He grabbed a large popcorn but a small soda- he knew he was in it for the long haul. He eagerly took his seat in a mostly-empty auditorium- unfortunately, it seemed most of his contemporaries couldn’t enjoy the subtle genius of this film the way he could.

There were a few people in the back, though, and had he paid them any mind, he’d have heard the first seeds of change planting themselves into his life.

He’d have heard one of them burst out into a fit of violent coughs.

XXXX

Please R&R, any feedback welcome, Gamer4 out.


	4. Spread

Gamer4 in. Starting this chapter, even these opening notes will be the same between Fanfiction and AO3- it really does just come down to which site you’d rather read on. God gave you the freedom of choice- don’t waste it. Let’s go on.

Disclaimer: Come on, baby, don’t fear the reaper- baby, take my hand!

Chapter III

Spread

Chiaki glanced around the hotel room the Kuzuryuu clan had set her up with- nothing too fancy, but far from uncomfortable, as well. Fuyuhiko wanted her somewhere he could find her immediately, 

For the moment, she lay in her bed, her GameGirl raised over her head as she replayed Super Mario World- one of her favorites. It had been her first game, and one she found herself returning to again and again. She knew it inside and out from multiple playthroughs, allowing her to relieve her stress by plumbing through its many secrets.

Finally, she paused- as much as she loved the game, it didn’t have quite the same appeal right now that it usually did. She..... didn’t want to play right now. She glanced over at a desk nearby. She wanted..... to write.

One of her favorite things in gaming was the way the medium could be used to tell stories- some of her favorite tales came to her through video games, despite the many people she’d seen deriding them as so shallow. For a while, now, she’d entertained the idea of writing some stories of her own- but where to begin? 

An idea came to her- one that made her turn ever so slightly red. Perhaps she could start with something easy- or at least, something she knew more about than anyone else. Perhaps she could try writing an autobiography? Not that she was anyone important or anything, but just to grease her writing gears a tad.....?

She found herself sitting at the desk, pen in hand, a notebook given to her by Fuyuhiko laid out before her. She clicked the pen a few times, pondering what, exactly, to put down.

By the time Peko Pekoyama arrived to pick her up, all she had managed was a crude title.

*’The Life and Times of Chiaki Nanami,’ hmm?* Peko looked amused. 

Chiaki glanced away in embarrassment. 

Peko drew her attention by tapping her on the shoulder. *Fuyuhiko’s caught the girls who assaulted you- we’re going to The Office.*

Chiaki nodded, rising to her feet and allowing herself to be led from the room.

XXXX

The Office, as Chiaki had learned quickly, was the Kuzuryuu Clan’s base of operations- a skyscraper tucked away in downtown Kyoto, one of many buildings to pierce the heavens.

It wasn’t into the heights of this building that Peko led Chiaki, however, but into its depths, where the Clan had formed a rudimentary series of cells to hold their enemies.

The chamber Peko took her to was reminiscent of single-or-double celled jailhouses in old movies Chiaki had seen, accompanied by a sofa and desk where a guard might rest or do other work. There was a mini-fridge, but nothing else resembling a kitchen, and a few high-set windows to let in a few rays of natural light.

Peko guided her to the sofa and bowed slightly. *The young master will be back momentarily- until then-*

The rest of her words became unnecessary when the door opened and Fuyuhiko appeared, ushering in three young women. The two in the rear seemed to be cooperating, their heads lowered- the brown-haired girl and Punk Rock Girl who’d stood by and watched as Blond Girl beat her into the pavement. Brown-haired Girl looked particularly upset, Punk Rock more..... resigned.

Blond Girl, however, was red in the face, spitting venom at her brother, who seemed to be taking it rather well, all things considered, as he led her and her friends into one of the makeshift cells, locking the door and turning towards Chiaki.

He pointed behind himself without any flourish. *Ibuki Mioda,* he introduced, pointing at Punk Rock Girl, who, upon being shut in, took a seat on a bench, produced a harmonica, and began blowing into it, much to the bemusement of the others. *Sato Edogawa,* he continued, pointing at Brown-Hair Girl. *And my sister, Natsumi Kuzuryuu.*

Natsumi’s face visibly soured when she looked at Chiaki. *Oh, I see how it is. You’re siding with that bitch over your own sister!*

*I’m doing this for you,* Fuyuhiko corrected. *You think I’m being harsh? What happens when this temper of yours causes real trouble for the clan? They ain’t gonna let you off with a slap on the wrist, I’ll tell you that much. You want me to keep this secret? Sit down, and shut up. Chiaki here will be your guard.*

*Why her?* Natsumi objected with a snarl.

*Cause she’s the one you wronged,* Fuyuhiko volleyed back. *And because there’s no point shoutin’ abuse at her- she can’t hear it anyways.*

The girls’ eyes widened. Sato’s least of all- Chiaki had had a hunch she’d figured it out before. Ibuki stopped playing her harmonica, looking even more shocked than the night of the assault in question. Natsumi seemed slightly taken aback, but quickly hid it behind anger. *When I get outta here-*

Fuyuhiko sighed heavily as he turned around- then abruptly bent over double, coughing and hacking. *I’m fine, I’m fine!* he objected when Peko immediately leapt forward to help him maintain his balance. *Just a fuckin’ cold, is all.....*

He turned towards Chiaki. *Just keep an eye on ‘em for a couple days, alright?* He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and plopped it on the desk in front of the sofa for her. *We’ll take care of everything else. I’ll make sure you’re rewarded for your time.*

Chiaki nodded dutifully. Natsumi looked betrayed, Sato repentant, and Ibuki had returned to her harmonica. Chiaki had a hunch that, if she could hear it, it would be some classic ‘jailhouse blues.’ 

Fuyuhiko let loose with another hacking cough, struggling to contain it with his elbow. This time, he couldn’t fight Peko grabbing his shoulders. *Young Master, I must insist you take the rest of the day off.*

*Alright, alright, fuckin’ worrywart.....* he grumbled as he finally allowed himself to be led from the room.

Chiaki glanced at her charges, then to her desk. She produced her notebook again, and leaned back on the sofa, lightly chewing on her pen, pondering what to write first.

XXXX

The second her clock read 7:30, Mukuro Ikusaba’s eyes opened and began taking in the apartment around her. There had been no alarm- Mukuro needed no alarm. Her years of service abroad with the mercenary unit Fenrir had taught her enough discipline to awaken at the exact right time.

The apartment around her was very spartan- not so much as a poster livened up the room. There was simply her bed, a table on its side carrying a lamp, and a nearly-empty closet.

She rose from her bed and headed into the equally small, spartan kitchen unit, pouring herself some cereal. In all honesty, there was no real need for her to be up this early in the morning- she had precious little to occupy her these days. She’d had a goal when she finally left Fenrir and returned to Japan- a goal that still lurked in the back of her mind, despite her steadily-decreasing hope that it would ever come to fruition.

That goal centered around a young man she’d known before her sojourn off to war- a young man with brown hair, some of which always seemed to stick above his head in an almost-unnatural antenna. Her first, last, and only friend in this world. It had been years since she’d last seen him- she wondered if he even still remembered her. She hoped he did.

But Japan was a large place, and she hadn’t kept in touch with anybody during her time abroad- there was simply no time for such things. From her first day of service to the day she’d been sent back home after taking shrapnel to the leg, she’d had only her comrades in Fenrir. She cared for them, she could admit to herself, just..... not the way she’d cared for that boy, Makoto Naegi.

Of course, she’d longed to reunite with him from the second she returned to Japan’s shores, but the desire had only grown since the dreams began- dreams reminding her of everything that happened during those fateful years. Dreams of everything she’d done, every atrocity she’d committed for no reason other than she and her allies were being paid to do so. Japan didn’t look well upon the mentally disturbed, she knew that well enough- but Makoto did. 

On the subject of dreams, she thought the one she’d had last night was different. She’d been on the battlefield, in the heat of combat, she remembered that..... heart racing, any moment could be her last, or the last for her comrades, the only people she had left in the world..... but then.....

Bird.

It was the only word she could summon to describe what happened next. Yes, there had been a bird. A great black bird soaring over the skies, blocking out the sun, leaving darkness, death and destruction in its wake. She’d heard of the Roc shared by several eastern cultures, but.... this bird had been far more terrible. Far..... crueller. She usually understood her dreams- not this one.

She finished her cereal in record time, and leaned back, pondering what to do with the rest of her day. Things had been so much simpler in Fenrir- there was always a place to be, a time to be there, and clearly understood consequences if she failed. Back here, in peacetime, allowed to do whatever she wished..... was somehow far more stressful. 

She placed her bowl in the sink- she’d clean it later. Unable to think of anything better to do, she ensured she had her favorite combat knife safely hidden away (just in case) and headed outside. Perhaps just walking around the city could occupy her time- especially if she thought to herself that she was on patrol. For what, she didn’t know.

XXXX

The sun was bright in the sky that day, giving her a clear view of the city around her. She preferred it that way- she knew that there weren’t any threats lurking in the shadows anymore (none that she couldn’t take care of, at any rate,) but years of training in guerrilla warfare wasn’t something easily forgotten. She tried to let her shoulders down, to relax and take in the sun, but it simply wasn’t that easy.

She made her way to a park in the city’s center and sat on a bench next to a fountain, silently watching water flow into the pool surrounding it. The occasional couple would pause to throw a few yen into the pool- Mukuro offhandedly wondered what she would wish for, if she believed in such superstition. Wartime had a way of drilling such things out of her.

She looked up- and froze. Perched in a tall tree- a late bloomer, if the lack of leaves was anything to go by- was a large black bird. It shouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to her- birds were hardly uncommon in this area- but something about this bird put her off. Its eyes..... despite being the usual black pools, they were like chips of ice as they gazed at her..... watching.

She shook her head- no, the bird wasn’t watching her, she was just being paranoid. Again, those instincts she wasn’t quite able to-

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING, YOU FREAK!”

Mukuro didn’t jump, not least because the voice clearly wasn’t directed at her. It was coming from several yards away, where a woman with short, dark hair dyed a deep purple was glaring at a young, black-haired man in a uniform matching his hair. His eyes were wide and frightened as the woman screamed down at him.

“What, trying to cop a feel, thinking I wouldn’t tell anyone?!”

“No, I..... I didn’t.....”

Mukuro blinked, her eyes focusing on the boy’s hair in particular. A few strands hung above his head in a slim ahoge. Perhaps that explained the anger she felt as she watched this woman berate the man- it was like watching him get bullied.

Before she knew it, she was on her feet and crossing the distance between them.

“I’ll show you what perverts get in my city!” the woman snarled, raising her hand to strike the boy- only to find her hand caught. She turned to find Mukuro glaring silently at her.

“He’s done nothing to you,” Mukuro finally spoke- it must have been her first full sentence in weeks. “I saw the whole thing. Leave him alone.”

“You think you can tell me what to-”

The woman balled her hand into a fist and made to drive it into Mukuro’s stomach. 

Mukuro grabbed the fist and flipped the woman over onto the ground.

The young man stood silent, watching with wide eyes.

The woman growled as she forced herself to her feet. “Damn bitch..... I’ll sue!”

Mukuro glanced around- a police officer must have been nearby- he was already approaching.

Immediately, the woman’s snarl disappeared. “Officer- this woman assaulted me out of nowhere! Arrest her!”

“Ms. Tendou!” the officer gasped, seeing the woman clearly. “Er.... of course!”

“....That’s not what happened,” Mukuro attempted to counter, though she didn’t struggle as the officer pulled out a pair of cuffs. “She was attacking this boy-”

“That’s not true! He can tell you- tell the officer! This woman came out of nowhere and started yelling at us!”

Her narrowed eyes sent the young man a clear message: *Stick to that story, or I’ll make it worse for you.*

The young man stood there, stammering, clearly uncertain what to say or who to say it to.

Mukuro wasn’t disappointed- she’d figured she’d be alone in this. So it always had been, so it likely would always be. 

It didn’t take long for a police car to arrive near the park. As Mukuro found herself herded into it, she found her eyes drawn back to that tree- the tree with the bird.

The bird was gone. In its place was a woman- she couldn’t make out many details from this distance- she had the fleeting impression of long, strawberry-blond hair, and a tie split in color.

But even from this distance, she thought she detected the piercing gaze of two cold, blue eyes.

Like chips of ice.

XXXX

Makoto opened his eyes to find himself somewhere he’d never been. He stood in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by tall stalks of corn, beneath a bright, blue sky. Slowly, he turned, and found a house- a large house made of wood, emerging from the corn like a ship from the sea. And on the porch was a woman- a remarkably old woman, sitting in a rocking chair, strumming on a guitar.

She smiled at him through a pair of red eyes, hidden slightly behind a thin pair of glasses. “Makoto Naegi,” she greeted. “I knew you’d come.”

“Do I.... know you?” he asked.

“We haven’t met,” the woman shook her head. “Sorry- my name is Ryoko Otonashi.”

Makoto glanced around again, eyeing the waves formed in the corn by the gentle wind. “This..... is a dream.”

“Yes..... and no,” Ryoko smiled gently at him. “You’re asleep right now, but I’m very real.”

A nostalgic look came over her face. “I had a husband once, you know- we lived in America for a few years before coming back to Japan. He and I could talk to each other without ever opening our mouths- he called it ‘Shining.’”

“Shining?” Makoto repeated, nonplused.

“I don’t doubt that you’ve never heard of it before,” Ryoko smiled. “But..... I think you’ve got a bit of shine to you yourself.”

Makoto glanced around again. “Why? Why are you reaching out to talk to me like this?”

“Because there are tough times ahead,” Ryoko answered promptly. “Mayhap are already here. But try not to worry too much- when the time comes, my door will be open to you. Come on over any time, and bring your friends.” Her smile grew a little wider. “I’m sure you’ll know the way- just let the shine guide you.”

XXXX

Makoto opened his eyes to find himself back in the sterile room he’d been imprisoned in for..... how long now? He wasn’t altogether sure. Time seemed to be slipping away from him while he did nothing but lay in bed all day, flicking through a couple of books he wasn’t able to concentrate on, flicking through tv channels he wasn’t able to stomach. 

At long last, the door opened, and he sat up, ready to talk to Ms. Gekkogahara, as he’d learned was the name of the odd woman in the wheelchair, and attempt to wheedle some answers out of her.

It was to his surprise when he instead found himself face-to-face with a man so tall his head brushed against the ceiling. Brown hair, brown eyes, dark skin, and very well-muscled, Makoto was immediately intimidated.

But there was something else about him..... something odd.....

“Juzo Sakakura,” the man introduced himself, his voice perfectly matching up with the rest of him. “Gekkogahara tells me you aren’t cooperating.”

“I’d be willing to, if you’d tell me what was happening,” Makoto repeated his usual refrain. “For instance, why you’re the only person I’ve seen who’s not wearing a helmet.”

Juzo’s eyes narrowed. “They said you were sharper than you look. As to that.....”

He raised his hand- another man appeared behind him, wearing a helmet that almost resembled a cow, handing a small cage to Juzo, who in turn placed it on the table next to Makoto’s bed. 

“Know what this is?”

Makoto glanced in and saw a small rodent licking on a lump of salt. “....A hamster?”

“You know what’s special about hamsters?”

Makoto shrugged. 

“This disease that’s been going around your hometown.... it has the same effect on hamsters that it does on humans. It’s highly contagious, and yet, after being exposed to it multiple times, you’ve shown no symptoms. Even the hamster that’s been sharing your air is just as comfortable as ever.”

Makoto watched the hamster a little longer. “Yeah, he..... looks pretty healthy.” He looked back up. “So, this is about the disease?”

“It’s an unusual strain of flu,” Juzo began, “one that the Future Foundation’s been monitoring for a while. It’s nothing serious yet, but someone who’s immune to it could be..... helpful.”

Makoto thought back to one of his lessons with Kyoko. Everybody has a tell when they lie- even me. Keep your eyes open, and nobody will ever truly be able to deceive you.

When Juzo claimed that the disease they were studying was ‘nothing serious,’ his eyes flicked away, unable to meet Makoto’s. The movement was very brief- he wouldn’t have seen it if he hadn’t been looking for it.

But he had.

“....If it’s not serious, then put me in contact with my sister– and Kyoko Kirigiri,” Makoto suggested. “Once I’m sure they’re safe, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Juzo crossed his arms, a grimace spreading across his face- but Makoto’s focus was still on his eyes, which were still struggling to meet his own. “You’re not in any position to bargain, kid.”

“Of course not,” Makoto shook his head. Time to try another trick Kirigiri had taught him- bluffing. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of other people here immune to this.... whatever it is.....”

No doubt about it- Juzo was definitely struggling to meet his eyes now. 

“You think we can’t get what we need if you don’t cooperate?” his eyes narrowed. “You think it matters to us if we can’t get an accurate blood pressure reading, or whatever shit? All that matters is finding a cure.”

“You’d go that far for a disease that ‘isn’t that serious?’” Makoto challenged.

Juzo stepped forward. “Listen here, you little shit-”

Abruptly, Makoto’s eyes widened. He raised his arm and attempted to cover his mouth- before he could make it, he was letting out a series of hacking coughs, racking through his body, causing him to spasm as he bent over double.

The effect was immediate- Juzo’s eyes widened in fear- no, sheer terror- and he rushed towards the door.

Just before it closed, Makoto straightened up again, wiping his mouth. “Just kidding.”

Juzo froze, and slowly turned back towards him. “....What?”

Makoto shrugged. “I was a normal high school kid, I’ve faked being sick before.”

Juzo’s hands clenched into fists. “Why?”

“Because now I know for sure,” Makoto stood firm. “This isn’t just some cold- and you need me a lot more than I need you.”

Juzo stood in silence for nearly a full minute before finally retreating.

XXXX

“THAT LITTLE BASTARD!” Juzo raged upon returning to headquarters.

Kyosuke hardly reacted- he was reviewing footage of Location 99, where this had all begun- the cameras still poring over the countless corpses left behind. It had been so vicious, at first- most of the people who died that day had done so before they had the chance to realize +.thing was wrong. But the flu- as it was born to- had mutated, becoming colder- crueler, toying with its victims before finally taking their lives. 

His stress was beginning to show now- he hadn’t shaved, leaving some untamed stubble on his face that he couldn’t be bothered to clear. His smoking had increased- he was now averaging a pack a day, often followed by a shot of whiskey. 

Rate of infection: 99.4 percent.

Rate of mortality: 100 percent.

“What.... did he do?” Kyosuke finally asked weakly. He didn’t know who ‘he’ was, but decided Juzo would work better after getting whatever was on his chest off of it. 

“That runt Naegi pretended to have Trips,” Juzo growled. “He doesn’t even understand what it is, but he faked it! What, just to see me squirm?”

Kyosuke doubted that- from what little attention he’d paid to the brown-haired young man, he would guess that any ruse he put on was done with the express purpose of finding out mroe about his situation. Nonetheless, the idea of him doing it to inspire dread in the people keeping him captive, attempting to share his own fears, if only a little bit....

“Clever little bastard.” He let out a humorless chuckle and finished the bottle on his desk.

Juzo was on the point of continuing his rant when his phone rang. He answered it quickly. “Yes? Yes...... I understand. I’ll ask.”

He hung up. “The media situation is getting out of hand. We need to decide- do we cover this up, or let the public know the truth?”

For a long time, Kyosuke remained silent, gazing at one camera in particular. That woman there.... she had died in the middle of a meal. A simple bowl of instant ramen- the workers of the Future Foundation were well compensated, but often found themselves too busy to bother with more complicated meals. Had she known what was coming before death claimed her? Had she felt a rush of dread as the alarm began to blare, and the reality set in that she would never see her home again? Or had she sat down to eat and simply flopped over, head planting itself into the small bowl, death coming before she could even feel the soup’s heat?

He lit another cigarette- the first of a new pack. “Tell them, don’t tell them..... cover it up, don’t cover it up..... it doesn’t matter. We’re fucked either way.”

XXXX

Chiaki paused her game and rose to her feet, stretching and glancing over at her three charges. Very little had changed since the previous day- Ibuki still sat on her bench, playing her harmonica, Sato pulled into her corner, and Natsumi..... was writing some very rude words on the wall with what appeared to be a tube of lipstick. She turned around and directed a harsh glare towards her captor. Chiaki tilted her head, then sat down, breaking out her notebook, trying to figure out what to write next.

She didn’t have anything fancy down yet- she’d only just started writing the previous day, after all. 

*I was born in a small town called Asakusa- I don’t have the full details, but apparently, it was a complicated birth. My mother was sick at the time, and she passed it on to me. I don’t know what it was, but I’m sure it’s any mother’s worst nightmare.

The moment I was born, they started doing everything they could to save me- since you’re reading this now, they obviously succeeded. I guess that’s why my parents were always so doting- to them, me surviving at all must have seemed like a miracle.

It took some time for them to realize that I was deaf-mute. At first, they thought I was just a very quiet child. Maybe they suspected it earlier, but tried to deny it to themselves, but the first time I think they really understood was when they took me to a parade, and I slept through the whole thing. No matter how loud it got, I didn’t stir at all.

People have asked me what it’s like to be unable to hear- I never really figured out how to answer. I’d imagine trying to describe a life of perpetual silence would be just as difficult as trying to describe sound to someone who’s never heard it, or sight to someone who’s never seen. It might sound simple, but how do you describe color to someone who was born blind? How do you tell them what red is, or that the sky is blue while the grass is green? How can you describe music to someone born deaf? Even if you explained to me exactly how to read music, I’d never truly understand how it sounded to someone who could listen.....*

At which point she began to feel that she was rambling, and had trailed off. She’d never been the neatest writer- the ink was smudged in several places where her hand had touched it- a hand she’d had to wash thoroughly to get ink off of. 

So far, her job had been as simple as Fuyuhiko had promised- just sit around, keep an eye on the girls. Natsumi’s repeated efforts to get under her skin aside, everything was going well. She didn’t know how long Fuyuhiko intended to keep this punishment going, though..... perhaps she’d ask when-

Speak of the Devil. No sooner had the idea formed than the door opened and Peko stepped in, carrying four plates of food on a large tray. Chiaki glanced behind her, searching for Fuyuhiko, but couldn’t find him.

Peko seemed to notice. *The Young Master’s cold has worsened, I am afraid,* she explained apologetically. *I finally convinced him to take the day off. He’s always been a fast healer- I’m certain he’ll be back to full strength soon.*

Chiaki could sense the nerves in her eyes, and a glance over at Natsumi confirmed it- both women were very concerned for him. For all that she was playing it off as a simple cold, Chiaki guessed it had been a long time since he’d allowed such a thing to impede his work- perhaps it had never happened at all. 

Nevertheless, Chiaki didn’t raise any objections as Peko handed the temporary prisoners their food, before turning and giving some to her as well. She watched as Peko approached the door, pausing momentarily to let loose what seemed like a remarkable sneeze that she managed to cover with her elbow before finally taking her leave.

For the first time since she’d been taken in, Natsumi briefly gave up on her efforts to heckle her captor.

XXXX

Mahiru Koizumi liked to think of herself as a woman of principle- a woman who always stuck to the truth, no matter how difficult it became. Her interest in photography had started as a way to capture people’s smiles- something she still enjoyed, but she had also come to believe in the objective truth that a photograph could capture. 

Her career in journalism began when she started writing short articles to go with the pictures she took- then longer ones, then steadily longer ones, until she had finally joined a paper dedicated to informing the country of what was happening around them. Operating out of Shibuya, she sought to capture the pure truth and spread it to the world.

01 Then came the day that one of the paper’s largest benefactors arrived at the building, and as24ked for her by name.

She’d never heard of Masayoshi Shido before, but the moment she laid eyes on him, she knew something: she didn’t like him.

He was a tall man in a simple button-up shirt and suit jacket. His head was devoid of hair save for a small goatee, and his eyes were concealed behind a narrow pair of yellow shades. By all appearances, there was nothing that should have caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end- yet, it was doing just that.

“Mahiru Koizumi,” he greeted, extending a hand. She shook it, but let go as early as she felt she could. “I believe you’ve been covering a certain story lately- a story about this..... this disease that seems to be going around, this..... Captain Trips?”

“That’s what people are calling it,” Mahiru nodded. “I’m not entirely certain where the name came from, but of course, that’s not as important as where the disease itself-”

Shido cut her off by raising a single hand. “I’m not interested in where this story has been, so much as I am in where it’s going. In the coming days, you will report that this outbreak lies on the shoulders of Toranosuke Yoshida.”

“T-Toranosuke..... Yoshida?” Mahiru repeated, nonplussed. “As in, Prime Minister Yoshida?”

“Yes,” Shido nodded. “You will report that every death caused by this Captain Trips lies squarely on his shoulders.”

“Why?” Mahiru asked. “Has there been new evidence uncovered? I’ve been doing all the digging I can, but I haven’t found anything that could definitively prove-”

“This isn’t a matter of proof,” Shido interrupted again. “As a journalist, you have the power to make the truth- and the truth that you will spread to Japan is that Toranosuke Yoshida is a murderer-by-proxy, Captain Trips as his weapon.”

Mahiru’s expression began to grow hard. “Sir, without proof, I can’t-”

Shido interrupted yet again. “How is your father, dear?”

“My- my father?” Mahiru repeated, clearly caught off guard. “What does he-”

“I hear he’s rather sick himself- not with Trips, fortunately, but he does rely heavily on government money to continue making ends meet. I would personally find it rather.... unfortunate if such funds were to cease, wouldn’t you?”

Mahiru’s mouth dried as she realized the corner she’d been backed into by this despicable man before her. “I...... I’d call that unfortunate, yes,” she admitted, her head sagging.

“Glad to see we’re on the same page,” Shido nodded. “So, remind me what the truth is, again?”

“The Captain Trips outbreak..... is on Prime Minister Yoshida,” Mahiru parroted. Never before had she felt so defeated.

“Good girl.”

Shido rose to his feet and left.

On that day, a transformation began- the transformation of Captain Trips from a deadly threat to a political weapon.

XXXX

The Future Foundation, though it often touted itself as an organization of the future, still fell into many trappings typical of any foundation, including a clear system of rank. Many things were on a need-to-know basis, and while everyone with ties to the group had been warned about an impending outbreak, not everyone had been warned with quite the same severity.

Take, for instance, the simple nurse, Sayoko Uehara, who naturally took measures that would protect her from most diseases, but was ill-prepared for one so insidious as Captain Trips. Washing one’s hands would not save one from this disease- no ordinary surgical mask could keep it out. Worst of all, in certain forms..... it was patient. The disease was perfectly willing to wait within such a young nurse, then, when she arrived to her duty at the Future Foundation, all it took was one extra second getting her protective gear on to pass it on to one other person, who would, in turn, pass it to another.

By the end of the day, an entire building might well be compromised.

And outside, a large black bird watched, cruel delight in its wide, black eyes.

XXXX

Please R&R, anything at all welcome, Gamer4 out.


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